A Box of Chocolates
by Midorineko-chan
Summary: After four years of Sherlock's death, John Watson has finally reached a point in his life where things are turning back to normal, or what's close to it. Then, destiny comes knocking on his door to reveal an unexpected reunion. Can Sherlock repair what four years has torn apart, or will it become something else entirely? And will a newcomer create a barrier between the two?
1. Reunion

**A Box of Chocolates**

Chapter 1: Reunion

"Do me a favor, don't be dead."

John Watson's face broke into anguish as tears rolled down his cheeks. Mrs. Hudson watched the small man fall to his knees upon the grave of his late flatmate. This lasted for about five and a half minutes until she suggested they go back to for tea.

Sherlock smiled at the whole scene with slight amusement, and a bit of apathy. He was not dead of course, surely Watson would figure that out, or at least give him a bit of credit for putting up the whole scheme. In truth, it was all for their safety. If not for those efforts, both Mrs. Hudson and John would be in the faux grave instead of a supposed Sherlock.

He shook his head as he walked away into the trees, avoiding any main paths. This day would be an uneventful one, and more to come, seeing as he had to lay low until it all blew over. Afterwards, he would return to 221B Bakers Street, with its two annoying but lovable occupants.

Lovable.

He could agree that Mrs. Hudson was annoying at best. But like ivy she slowly grew on him with her stubborn nature. John was a more peculiar case. Despite what was said about him by Sally or all the other people at Interpol, John dismissed it all and happily followed him like a puppy (if a rather damaged one). He enjoyed every moment they were trying to solve a case, even if most put them in danger. But for Sherlock, he was more than what people would jokingly say, something along the lines of a good friend. But he would not admit it so readily, as much as he felt John Watson was of that much value to him.

After traveling through the backstreets of London, he reached a shabby looking building where he would reside until it was time to reveal himself. What better way to hide than in plain sight?

He let out a sigh, taking out a key from his pocket and opened the door to his new flat. It wasn't as luxurious as 221B, but it was something he'd have to get used to. There was only one chair, its fabric faded, a worn down coffee table, and a television with a stand, even though he doubted it would be used, in the main room. The bedroom was even more sparse of furniture, containing only a bed with an iron frame and flimsy mattress, and a sole dresser to put all his things. He was already missing how Mrs. Hudson would always ask if they wanted tea and serve them regardless of their answer or complain that she wasn't their housekeeper. John would be watching football on the television or flirting with a future love interest on his cellphone.

He threw himself on the bed, actually tired. The restlessness would soon overwhelm him. But it was a trying day. Once he had a good nights rest, and the boredom came, he would be out and about. His eyes slowly fluttered, hesitant of nightmares that would sure come.

_Four years later_

John Watson threw the last of his dinner in the bin. Not as hungry as he thought he was. Mrs. Hudson was up and about as usual, cleaning around the kitchen, complaining how it was filthy and he should really tidy up. But of course she would do it herself, feeling the need to help somehow.

"I'm sorry love but I'm not your housekeeper, you should clean this mess. " she rambled on as John began washing plates.

"It's a shame to let it get like this, it's such a nice flat. John, have you found anyone interested in rooming with you?" she dusted the bookshelf and continued. "I bet if you made the place look nice enough, and you open up, they'll be more than happy to to stay."

"I'll get to that Mrs. Hudson don't worry." _she couldn't have been more wrong_ he thought as he finished his chore. In fact, he would never be the same with anyone else besides Sherlock.

"Remember, the rent is high, I dont want to leave you out on the street." she continued but John just shrugged his shoulders.

Four years, have they gone by that quickly? The first two were a blur of rage and depression. Lestrade helped him through most of it, keeping the reporters out of the way, while a few therapy sessions just suppressed the pain. The third was like a state of relapse, sometimes lucidity would come over him, other times he would just stay in a sort of comatose. Now he had a bit of normalcy, and was returning to his routine. He was looking for a job, talking to friends again, but not looking for another flatmate, it still was too soon for that.

He finished up in the kitchen while Mrs. Hudson went back upstairs. He found a newspaper and began reading the help wanted advertisements. Nothing else was of big interest besides global affairs and beauty discoveries. Typical. He yawned and got ready for bed, another gloomy morning awaited him.

Mrs. Hudson was already in the kitchen when John walked into the living room. He yawned but jumped as he heard a knock on the door. Who can that be so early? And how did they get in the house? John did not like this at all, so he grabbed his cane from the corner where it stood, unused.

"I'll get that." he crept to the door, making sure she was occupied in the kitchen so as not to notice his stance.

The knock on the door came again, more persistent now. It may have been a couple of years, but comfort taught him a cruel lesson. He moved fast then, grabbing the knob and thrusting the door open. As soon as it opened, Watson dropped the cane immediately, stumbling backwards but still standing. He was frozen in place, the shock taking over his body. "Sh-Sh-Sherlock?" He was only able to mutter before he fell to the floor.

Mrs. Hudson came out the kitchen to see what the entire ruckus was about.

"John, who's at the-my word!" she gasped with her hands covering her mouth, looking at the man standing in the doorway. "It's a ghost!"

Now Sherlock was expecting a bit of surprise from both parties, but what he didn't expect was such a strong reaction to his arrival. He stifled a laugh. "Morning." he told John who was still on the floor then he turned to her. "Mrs. Hudson, if you don't mind, I'd like to get settled in." he picked up a suitcase and walked inside, then turned to them and smiled. "Glad to be back."

John and Mrs. Hudson both looked at one another from the couch, wondering if they both were seeing the same apparition moving about in the flat. John was still shaken, his hands trembling as he held the glass of whiskey. Sherlock went to his room, relieved to see that it wasn't changed, besides all the drawers being empty of his clothes. No matter, he'll buy new ones. He walked towards the doorway to find Mrs. Hudson standing right in front of him.

She held out her hand and touched his face, smoothing out the cheeks. "Is that really you dear?" He simply smiled and nodded. "Well then, if that's it, then you must be hungry. I'll make you some breakfast." Had Mrs. Hudson really softened over the years?

Sherlock went to his favorite chair in the living room and watched Watson gulp down the rest of his whiskey glass. His gaze was not directly at Sherlock, but he could tell the man was trying hard not to stare.

"I'm not a ghost you know, I'm real." he stood up, suddenly reminded of his violin. Surprisingly it was still there, but out of tune. Disappointed, he sat back down and decided to fix later. In the meantime Mrs. Hudson served them breakfast, the sight of making Sherlock's stomach growl; he hadn't had a proper meal in months.

John still looked at Sherlock with wary eyes, not sure what to make of it. Was he really sitting there eating breakfast and sipping tea? It couldn't be. He shook his head while he picked up the eggs with his fork. Sherlock hocked his down, faster than a stray dog in winter. This man was supposed to be dead, not devouring the entire contents of the kitchen. John finished his breakfast to freshen up, hopefully it will help to clear his head.

The cold water felt great on his skin, waking him up. He figured it was all a hallucination, that it was just the postman who found the door unlocked and wanted to let them know. "Yeah that's right John." he told himself. "Just another one of your-AH!" he looked up in the mirror to see Sherlock staring straight at him.

"This isn't your bathroom!" was all he could say.

"I know, but I wanted to talk to you." It was so hard trying not to laugh at John in his draws.

"About?" he raised a brow trying to look serious, but it failed.

"About why you're avoiding me." Sherlock's gaze did not waiver from John's.

"I'm not avoiding you." His eyes said otherwise. Were they always that dull shade? Sherlock felt there was something different about them, as if they lost their liveliness. Oh well that wasn't important now.

"Oh come now John, you aren't still upset at that whole escapade? Well it's been years, I apologize. Shall we shake on it?" He stuck out his hand for his friend, only to have John stare for a good minute. Instead of him returning it, he pulled Sherlock into a tight embrace. It was so unexpected that he didn't have time to push back, only stand there, dumbfounded. Sherlock thought it would be over as soon as it began, until he felt his shirt become damp and heard whimpers from his thought to be tough companion John Watson. His voice was muffled by Sherlock's shirt but he heard clearly.

"Please, don't ever leave again! I can't loose you a second time Sherlock! I don't know if can take-if I can bear..." John looked up at him with tears in his eyes, his face scrunched from the crying. Sherlock only smiled and pulled his dear friend to the floor with him, and held him close as he wept in his arms.

**I didn't want to do it. I really didn't. I knew it would pull me into this deep abyss I couldn't escape from, but I had to, the urges kept pushing me, and now here it is. Not so OMG for a start in such a story, but hey, it simple and still touches the feels. So enjoy, and tell me what you think, they'll be more to come, and more lovey than this trust me XD Thanks.**

**-Midori**

**Disclaimer: All characters and settings belong to their respective creators, any I create are not part of the actual series.**


	2. Mystery Date

**A Box of Chocolates**

Chapter 2: Mystery Date

Sherlock stretched out in his bed, satisfied. It most definitely beat the piece of crap he was sleeping in before. He moved towards the edge and sat up. What he failed to notice was John on the floor next to him, sound asleep. But he wasn't at all surprised since it due to anticipation. Sherlock rolled his eyes, and crept over John so as not to disturb him. Already a day and John couldn't keep him out of his site, he hoped it wouldn't stay that way.

He turned on the hot shower, taking his time for once. Really, he was living in shambles before. Sherlock only had enough to pay for the apartment and some food each day, never having some money left over for anything else. And the hot water very limited. His finances from old cases were gone in two years, and decent under the table jobs were hard to come by. Now, he will be eternally grateful for being able to come back, to everything.

He laughed to himself. "Don't get ahead of yourself Sherlock." Time has humbled this egotistic sociopath, but for how long? Will it really ever be the same? Watson seemed to have forgiven him instantly, and Mrs. Hudson was a hardy soul.

Feeling refreshed, Sherlock stepped out the shower and back to his room. Wanting to amuse himself, he nudged John who was snoring lightly, with his foot. He jumped up, making a grunting noise in response.

"What?" John looked up with dazed eyes and his hair spiked up from sleep. He blinked a few times and realized his place. "Oh, well I was going to get up before you." his face showed obvious embarrassment, a shade of pink on his cheeks while he fidgeted slightly.

"Yes I suppose so." Sherlock merely smirked and shook his head. He went to his dresser, since he wasted no time yesterday putting things where they belonged. Watson awkwardly stood up scratching his head, deciding whether to leave.

"If you're worried about Mrs. Hudson she's in the kitchen." Sherlock thought he saw John mouth a curse, but merely chuckled. He pointed to the sofa and looked at John. "There's some clothes for you, use my shower."

"But I have-" he didn't let John protest.

"Would you rather play it cool or have yourself sneak off in shame as if you've done something?"

"You're right. So what are the plans for today?" he asked walking towards the bathroom.

"We'll see." He continued to rummage through the draws.

Sherlock and John ate silently for the most part of their meal. Mrs. Hudson was the one who broke the awkward tension growing between the two.

"So, what were you doing in Sherlock's room John?" Sherlock saw John choke on his biscuit before responding.

"I uh, wanted to talk to him for a bit." he looked down at his plate. "Thank you for the breakfast."

"Glad to see you boys are becoming friends again." she smiled.

"You can say that." Sherlock eyed John's every movement, his friend's uncertainty visible in the way he fiddled his fork. Were they really friends? The relationship was murky at the moment, even for Sherlock.

"Now then, since John has company, he no longer needs me to make his meals. Now he won't let himself starve." she got up, taking the rest of plates with her. Sherlock had noticed that John became considerably lean since the last he saw of him. to his usual stocky self.

John cleared his throat, changing the subject. "So now that you're here Sherlock, does that mean your going to solve cases again? I think we should let Lestrade know about your return."

"They'll be plenty of time for that, for now let us enjoy the quiet we have now." Sherlock returned to eating his breakfast.

John's expression was stoic but his tone grew dark. "I've had enough peace and quiet thank you."

Sherlock didn't sense the unease thickening like fog, so he continued. "Oh do tell."

John narrowed his eyes at the comment replying, "You blind fool, do you know what you've done to everyone around you, especially those who actually gave a damn?"

"Made you'd miss me perhaps, or maybe -" a firm fist reached his face before he could finish.

John retracted his hand, pulsing from the pain but he ignored it.

"Boys!" Mrs. Hudson heard the commotion but couldn't stop it fast enough. A gasp let out when she saw Sherlock's nose began to bleed.

"Fucking idiot! I should have known you wouldn't give a rat's ass. All you care about is yourself. I don't know why you would do such a cruel thing as to fake your own death, God knows how you done it, but realize that it wasn't funny." he let out a breath waiting for Sherlock to reply, but too busy keeping his head raised. Mrs. Hudson ran to his aid with a napkin.

"Honestly John, that was a bit much. Let me help you dear." she grabbed more but Sherlock shooed her away. He tried saying something but it the napkins muffled his voice.

"What?" John couldn't hear him.

"I didn't do it to hurt you. I did it to protect you, all of you." he may have said everyone, but his eyes laid heavily on John. Blood started dripping down his shirt.

"Is it broken?" John asked snapping out of his rage.

Sherlock shook his head, "No just a bit bruised."

Walking to the doorway and grabbing his coat, John nodded his head and looked towards Mrs. Hudson. "I'm going out, be back soon." the door slammed shut, leaving Sherlock bloody and confused.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked Mrs. Hudson who was silently clearing the table.

"Been through a lot is all. Your death took a toll. And now that you're back he's not sure what to make of it."

"But I thought he was over it?" she gave him a look as to say the opposite. "Fine I will speak to him later." he regretted his statement as soon as it escaped his mouth. Was it really necessary to talk to a grown man about their "relationship" problems? He let out a sigh and went to his room, so much for "plans".

It wasn't until nightfall that John returned to the flat, with a taxi driver as his escort. Mrs. Hudson was already upstairs, settling in early for the night, so Sherlock was left to answer the door. He saw John stumble back and forth, drunk off his bum. The driver helped him to the door and up the stairs. He saw that the cabbie was actually a young woman wearing a cap, and the fact she could hold up a grown man was a bit of a surprise.

"Are you sure you don't need my help miss?" he asked with the best false smile he could put on. She shook her head, smiled, and continued on.

"It's no problem sir, I've got him just fine. 'Can handle more than this let me tell you, I had two brothers, and they weren't the lightest of people. I'm used to it, especially when they're like this guy right here." an American, he could tell by the drawl of her words and short enunciation, but a hint of English was there, probably been here a couple of years. She reached the last step, and John began to stir, but only for a moment. Sherlock opened the door to the flat, leading her inside. "Where should I put him?"

"The sofa is fine." He gestured towards the love seat. She huffed and laid him gently on the faded piece.

"You should get him a blanket, it was cold out there." Sherlock nodded and walked out of the room, grabbing a blanket from John's previous sleeping spot. He saw her taking off John's shoes, leaving his socks and placed a cushion under his head. "Poor guy, he looked so lonely when I picked him up from the pub. Felt so bad for him." She put the blanket over the snoring man, who tossed and turned.

"I'm sure he was having a blast charming the women over there." She giggled, and got up. "Well gotta go, see you around um…"

"Louie." He stuck out his hand and she shook it. Better to lie now, than deal with the questions later.

"I'm Macy, it's nice to meet you Louie." She took off her cap to show thick waves of auburn falling past her shoulders, and now that he looked directly at her, he noticed green tinged in her eyes.

"How much does my friend owe you?" he asked, taking out his wallet, avoiding her question. She placed her up to stop him.

"Oh no, it's free of charge, he was great company." Sherlock couldn't help but laugh at the statement, a drunken John didn't sound so appealing to him. But he never saw John seriously drunk in the first place, drugged maybe, but never boozed up.

"Really?" he raised a brow, skeptical.

"Yeah, very polite and told lots of jokes. I enjoy a man who's funny." She smoothed back the locks as they were falling near her eyes. Why he paid mind to this he couldn't tell, probably his mind going in the wrong direction, looking for something to feast upon and solve.

"But, I can go for a cup of coffee, if you have any. Think if it as payment for my extra labor." She winked looking up expectantly. Sherlock mentally rolled his eyes but for some reason could not refuse her soft gaze.

"I'll check if we have anything to go with the coffee. Follow me to the kitchen." She nearly skipped, as he led her to the table while he scanned the cupboards.

Macy made a quick scan around the room. "Wow nice flat you got here, it's pretty neat." He finally found the coffee, and some biscuits from this morning that were still fresh. He served her and himself a cup, along with butter for the biscuits.

"Oh thanks Louie, I would've starved for the rest of the night. The late shift really kills." She let out a sigh, content with the snack.

"So you only work late nights?" he chomped on the bread, actually hungry.

"As a cabbie, but it's only for a while. Mostly bringing men like John back home from pubs. But it's not as bad as it sounds, since most of them are sleeping babies by the time they give me their address. From there, I just make sure they at least get to the door for their wives to fetch them. So, glad I did them the favor, I get an extra tip along with the fare. Easy huh?"

"Yes, it sounds worthwhile." He listened to her chatter on about her job. Sherlock was right, Macy only moved to England about three years ago, and worked as a temp. He just nodded and smiled at the right times, until she stopped mid-way.

"Say Louie," she studied him for a moment. A feeling of unease was rising in Sherlock, usually he was the one observing.

"What is it?" he looked around confused.

"It really feels like I've seen you before. Are you sure we haven't seen each other, like a one time drive up the road or something?" her thin brows furrowed in a line.

"Probably. I'm sorry if I don't recall." he shook his head starting to feel awkward.

"You know, this girl may forget names, but she never forgets a face. Anyways, sorry to have put you in the spotlight, I just wanted to make sure."

"It's fine. But I admire your attempt at pick up lines." he grinned, the more he baited her, the less suspicious she'd be.

Macy checked her watch and stood up. "Would you look at that, we've chatted for a whole hour! I should get back to the company, my shift is almost over." she kissed Sherlock goodbye on the cheek, stunning him in place. She then ran to John to give one on his forehead. Macy stuffed her hair back into the cap, put on her coat and saluted them both, "See you around boys." Sherlock wanted to say something, but she opened the door and ran outside before he could stop her.

As if by signal, John yawned and sat up slowly. "Who was that?"

"Your new friend Macy." he simply stated.

John's face began to flush of color. "What'd she tell you?"

"Nothing really, just about her being a cabbie and you being drunk off your ass when she picked you up." he noticed John's relieved expression.

"Oh well, about that...how's your nose?" Sherlock touched it, but it the pain subsided. He narrowed his eyes at John.

"Better no thanks to you. After a few ice packs and tissue, it was right as rain. How was the nap?"

"Great actually, but I don't remember getting here."

"Macy brought you. She did us the favor of hauling you up the steps... She's quite fond of you." he blankly touched his cheek, remembering the gesture.

"Oh, well I didn't expect her to do all, I guess I should probably thank her. I'll tell her in the morning."

"Of course you would." he and John exchange a laugh for a moment.

"John?" Sherlock cleared his throat, wanting to say more but his friend's expression looked off.

"Yes?"

Sherlock let out a sigh and shook his head. "Never mind, goodnight." he walked away, annoyed at his own reluctance.

**Whoo~ Das alot of wurds we got there lol. Anyways, I feel bad that Sherlock's beautiful face was touched by a fist, but he's ok. And who is this Macy and where does she live?! Lol I rlly wanted to introduce her early on so there's room for conflict development so yah. Hope you enjoy the rise in drama. Thnx**

**-Midori**

**All characters besides the ones I create belong to their respective creators of the series. **


	3. The Second Encounter

**A Box of Chocolates  
**Chapter 3: The Second Encounter

Sherlock never failed to wake up completely disoriented every morning. He'd forgotten that he was back in the flat, the nightmares bleeding into his reality. Sherlock peered over his bed, checking if a certain someone was beside it, but this time the space was empty. He shrugged, feeling the uncomfortable weight of disappointment settle into his stomach.

_Disappointment?_

Sherlock was not expecting his _lover_ to come to bed, for god's sake. The expectation that John would've stayed watching over him like that was clearly a sign that the boredom was getting to him. Truly, the other man couldn't be expected to stay by Sherlock's side the entire time. Already his mind was going awry; he needed a case, and soon.

Both he and John went through the motions: getting dressed, eating, and small talk. It was all still rather strange to be here with John, drinking tea and reading the paper. After a long stretch of uncomfortable silence, John looked up from the paper.

"I'll be bringing my blog back up online. Thought you'd like to know."

Sherlock was skeptical, he didn't want the whole world to know that he was back just yet.

"Do whatever you like. The only thing I ask is that you keep my name out of it", he replied after a pregnant pause.

"Can we at least call Lestrade and inform him?"

"Fine, but _only_ him for now." Sherlock waved him away, taking a sip of his now cold tea.

John grabbed his mobile with slightly trembling hands and dialed Greg's number.

He didn't exactly tell Greg that Sherlock was here, all he did say was that it was _urgent _and he needed to come right , it being a slow day at the department, Greg arrived within thirty minutes.

John greeted him at the door while Sherlock stood in his room, waiting for the signal to appear. They chatted for a few minutes until the purpose of his visit was questioned.

"Now what's this all about?"

"Well, I wanted to show you something." he heard John's voice falter, a clear sign of nervousness.

Lestrade rolled his eyes. "I can't imagine what's so important that you couldn't tell me in the office. Honestly, John."

"It's actually too confidential to show at the station, Greg." he shuffled a bit before speaking.

"You can come out now."

"Wait just a sec-" his mouth fell open before he could finish.

"Afternoon Inspector." there was no hesitation in the detective's reply .

"H-how? You fell 14 meters off a building! I saw the body myself, this is impossible. "

John had found himself wondering the same thing, ever since Sherlock's arrival at the flat. He never bothered to ask however, especially after distance that had grown between the two since the detective's return.

"It's quite simple really. As I told John before, it's all in the timing." the silver haired policeman was clearly baffled by Sherlock's sudden reappearance. In fact, if the way the man was breathing, he was close to hyperventilating. If only people had half the intelligence he possessed. Honestly, how could they truly think he'd died?

"I'm not going to bother. Four years Sherlock, four bloody years have passed and _now_ you've decided to show up? It could've made the department's job a hell of a lot easier."

Gregory Lestrade wasn't usually a cheerful looking man, and now his face had hardened as he spoke and his eyes held a deadly serious glare aimed at Sherlock. "You left us all here suffering, moping about because we thought you were _dead_. John here took it the hardest, have you no shame in that?"

"It has come to my knowledge that I've upset everyone yes, but surely you should have figured it wasn't true." Sherlock felt confusion and frustration well up inside him. What has he done so poorly to make them act this way? For god's sake, Sherlock had done it all to keep them safe. Why, why didn't they see this? And why hadn't they realized he couldn't possibly be dead. It really wasn't too difficult.

"Bullocks. Seeing your corpse all bloody and bruised would _definitely_ make us doubt it. Christ! You know the things I went through because of you, the things _he _needed help with because he only had me and poor Mrs. Hudson?" Lestrade shook his head, and headed for the door. "This will take some time to think about. Now that you're back I'll inform you on any low profile cases we need your assistance on. John, glad to see you again." He hurried out of the room, the door slamming loudly behind him. John stood there silent, only glancing at Sherlock.

"That was fast." he shrugged and headed back to his room. At least now he would be able to get back to work. Sherlock had forgotten how exhausting interacting with others could be. Especially when they failed to keep up with his reasoning.

John shook his head, muttering about taking Greg out for coffee as an apology.

No later than five minutes passed and another visitor was at the door. To John's surprise it was Macy, accompanied by an energetic French bulldog pup. Sherlock needed to only hear the woman's voice to know who it was.

"Good afternoon John, lovely day for a walk."

She was wearing a white, flower-patterned chiffon dress, with a beige sunhat to match. Admittedly the weather was nice for once in dreary London, which never failed to let loose a shower almost everyday.

"Macy, what brings you here?" he lit up, a smile as big as the Cheshire cat's appearing as she gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Well I wanted to stop by and say hello. See how everyone was doing. You don't mind if I bring my little friend inside? He's housebroken if that's a concern."

John nearly pulled her into the living room, "No it's not a problem."

"Great! Come on Bruce, say hello to my good friend John." the tubby creature ran inside, making himself at home on the floor beside the couch.

"Wow, he's quite well trained."

"I know. I just got him as few months ago, but he's a doll. Very quiet unless someone's at the door, and a good judge of character." she chattered as she joined John on the couch, who couldn't help but laugh.

"Really! So I'd say he'd be a great match maker then?" there goes John, starting with his _charm. _It was nearly enough to make Sherlock gag. Honestly, did the man not realize how daft he sounded?

"Let me tell you, if it were up to him, I'd be dating the prince! No second rate chump for this gal." she took off her sunhat, placing it beside her, and straightened her slightly flattened cherry brown locks.

"You are too much. Don't tell me you're one of those people who talk to their dogs?"

"Talking to your dog is perfectly normal, it's when _they_ start talking back that's the problem!" they both exchange a laugh and John offered her a drink. Sherlock rolled his eyes at this.

"Thank you, I was real thirsty. Mind if I get a bowl for the little one?" he nodded, handing her a small cereal bowl that was rarely used. Bruce lapped up the water gratefully. He yawned soon after, and returned to his place on the floor.

"So, did you really come just to see me?"

"Of course! I'd be crazy to let a good man like you go without company." she playfully shoved him and he blushed. "And where's Louie? I wanted to say hi to him too."

"Who? Oh! _Louie_, well he stepped out-" Sherlock appeared from his room as if on cue, stopping John's potential moment alone with the beauty.

"Louie!" she ran up to Sherlock, hugging him tightly. He returned the gesture, slightly less awkwardly then he had the first time. "It's so great to see you again! John was just telling me that you went out." she raised a fine brow, curious.

"And miss an opportunity such as this? Nonsense." he shot Macy a charming smirk, giving John a teasing glance. The other man shot back a threatening glare, as if to say _back off._

"You are such a flirt. At least John here has a bit of class." she mused.

"I would not call meeting a nice girl while blitzed, _classy_." she rolled her eyes at this, as John ignored the insult and pulled him to sit down.

"Oh don't be so mean! John, if it makes it better, you were a hoot the whole way back. So no worries on this end." John nodded but was still annoyed at his friend's remark. He usually never meddled in his female affairs, just hassled him, why was he interested in this one now?

All of them sat together in the living room talking to one as if they'd been close friends from the start. Macy would tell jokes, making John laugh more than he usually did, while Sherlock observed quietly, interacting now and again.

It was obvious that John fancied Macy as he couldn't stop staring at her. Sherlock noticed this, but said nothing. He found her sweet and bright, something that they both needed in these days of mist. He also noticed that she wasn't as exhausting to interact with as was the case with most people.

Whenever they met, she'd talk about her life in the States, specifically Tennessee, where it was always sunny. Her years in New York were also a favorite topic of hers. Even so, Macy could also be counted on to discuss things like philosophy, politics, and her dog Bruce all in one.

It was already four when she decided to leave.

"Oh! That reminds me. I need a pet sitter just for tonight, since I'm going out and won't be home till late. I was hoping both of you could do it for me, which also why I stopped by. Unless you're busy?"

"It's no problem for me, what about you _Louie_?"

"We can handle a puppy, I assure you." he shot a quick glance at John, whose look did not waiver.

"Right, I'll be back around ten. If you need anything just call me on my cell, you can text me anytime too."

She handed them both a card, with her number scribbled on it. "Just walk him once in a while but not too long, since he's still a puppy. I have kibble you can feed him at dinnertime and a ball he can play with."

Macy handed them Bruce's things in a bag. She hugged John and then Sherlock. "Thanks you two! I'm glad to have such great men around; living alone can be so difficult." She waved but before she could get out the door, Sherlock called out to her.

"Macy, it'll be freezing at night," he went to his room and grabbed his signature black coat, "Here take it; you can bring it back later."

"Chivalry lives." she grinned and ran out the door. Both he and John looked at Bruce, who merely grunted in response.

"You take first watch." Sherlock declared as he went back to his room.

"Hold on, I never said-" but Sherlock was already inside. John sighed, shaking his head for not saying something sooner.

"Guess it's just me and you then." the puppy barked as if replying to his comment.

Surprisingly, the only trouble they had with Bruce was keeping the pup entertained. He had kept chasing the ball, only stopping for a nap when he was too tired to continue. Despite his protests, Sherlock had enjoyed playing with and teasing the animal. It only took a couple of hours to warm up to it.

It was exactly ten o'clock by the time Macy came to collect him.

"How was he?" she asked Sherlock, who patted the dog's head one last time.

"Great, thanks for letting us take care of him." John scoffed at the blatant lie; earlier Sherlock despised the creature.

"I'm glad. Sorry to have asked you on such short notice." she took out some bills from her pocket, "Take these, it's the least I could do."

John got up, stopping her hand, "Don't worry, think of it as a favor from a friend."

"You two are the sweetest. Say, if neither of you are busy, want to go out to a pub? My treat."

John was ready to jump on the idea but Sherlock cut him off. "Oh no, thank you. Little Bruce there tired us out."

"Aw, it's alright. Some other time then. Goodnight boys!" she kissed each on the cheek, John's face turning red at the gesture. She closed the door as the men stared at one another.

"What was that all about? I was ready to have some fun." John whined childishly.

"Quite amiable, isn't she?" Sherlock examined something on his shirt, changing the subject.

"Yes, she is." John teased.

"A little too friendly if you ask me. But she's an American, so it can't be helped."

"Right. Right friendly. So you wouldn't mind if I took her out this Saturday?" John grinned at the turnaround. He might actually win this one.

"Wait, I didn't mean-"

"It's settled then." John clapped his hands together. He grinned almost happily but then Sherlock got a calculating look in his eye.

"Fine, I'll take her out Friday."

"You can't be serious? You only met her just the other day!"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "So have you. Don't you think it's best that I check on her first, before you go in, blinded by infatuation?"

"Infatuation? Is it wrong to be interested in someone after so long? You can't keep that wall up forever Sherlock."

"That _wall_ prevents you and me from coming to harm."

"Harm, what harm? It's _Macy_ of all people. You saw her, she's genuinely harmless. Even if there was any danger, it's nothing we haven't faced before. Sherlock, you need to get over what happened years before, I have. It's time you face your demons as well."

"I'm sure you did John. With that display you pulled when I first arrived, that was a clear sign."

His small friend rolled his eyes and let out a cruel laugh. "Like you've done better, you don't even have the balls to even think about your problems."

"I face them everyday! Watching you leave this place without so much as goodbye, going God knows where. I'm here, alone, bored out if my mind. Do you know what happens after you're gone? I start to think about all the things that can happen, all the people-"

"Moriarty isn't here to hurt us anymore Sherlock, he's dead. Get. Over. It." He flinched as Sherlock grabbed him by the collar, pulling John closer to him. Their faces were only inches apart and John could feel Sherlock's breath on his face. The heat of it causing him to flinch.

"Never speak that name again, or I promise you John, you won't make it to your date on Saturday."

John pushed himself away, stumbling on a pair of trainers by the door. Glaring, he turned and shoved Sherlock against the wall. "Go ahead and try, you know I can make it much worse."

Sherlock's gaze fell, his body going slack in the other man's grip. "John, I'm sorry. I just..." His anger seemed to fall away, leaving the detective with a nauseating sense of fear that made his head ache.

John released his tight hold on Sherlock, who sank to the floor. He looked up towards him, his face drawn. "What do you think of me John?"

"Y-you're my friend Sherlock, the closest I've ever had. And when I lost you… I thought it was for good. Then, you came back and I couldn't have been happier..." he scratched his head, confused at the change in atmosphere.

"That's all?"

John was about to reply but Sherlock's phone vibrated. It was Macy, thanking him for the coat and assuring that she'd return it this weekend.

_How about Friday? -L _he sent the message.

It vibrated again, following with a reply from Macy: _It's a date, see you then :)._

"Was that her?" asked John in a small voice.

Sherlock nodded slowly. "I'm going to see her Friday."

John rolled his eyes, but smiled. "You're relentless."

"Let the games begin." Sherlock stuck out his hand, and John shook it firmly.

**Hey guys, finally glad I updated? I know I am. Sorry I took so, long, I was actually very busy this summer, but tried my best in working on them. Send me some reviews, or other kind of feedback! It gives me fluffy feelings and motivates me to cotinue. Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I really liked it. I'll try and work on a schedule by posting every other day. And mondo kudo thank yous to Akiko Gaisuki for betaing this chapter for me and making it sexy. Thanks!**

**-Midori**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the series besides the one I create. All belong to their respective creators of the series.**


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